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When he joined me on the balcony, he went to the railing and let out a heavy sigh. My chest tightened. Was something bothering him?

He gave himself a shake and joined me on the patio couch. I had set up the balcony as a little reading nook that I used during the warmer weather. It wasn’t much but it allowed me to get outside more and gave me more space. It also got me out of the apartment.

Cyrus wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head.

My stomach tumbled.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

My head whipped around, finding his dark eyes staring back at me. They were hopeful, wishing for my yes.

You asked me that already.

“I know. I’m asking again because it’s a new day and I want you to be sure.”

Yes, I want to go on a date with you,I signed which earned me a smile.

“You’ve made me a very happy man, pet.” Cyrus waggled his eyebrows.

I laughed, shaking my head.

He chuckled, pulling me into his arms. “A very happy man,” he murmured.

His hot breath fanned over the side of my head. Just the sound of his deep voice, eased the stress that had become a permanent fixture on my shoulders.

Cyrus placed his mug on the table beside him then pulled me closer. He cupped my shoulder, pushing his thumb into the spot at the base of my neck.

I pulled my hair to the side, giving him better access.

“Trust me, pet,” he whispered.

I wanted to. God, did I ever want to. But I needed time. A lot of time. I was never told when it would be too soon to move on from my trauma and the shit that happened to me. Everyone was different. I could only take it one day at a time. Cyrus said he was patient but there was no way in hell he would wait. Not forever. It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask that of him.

“What are you thinking about?” Cyrus asked, handing me his phone. “Type it out,” he said, opening up the notepad app on his phone.

I took the phone from him as his hands massaged my shoulders and the back of my neck. I stared at the blank screen, not knowing what to type.

“Tell me how you feel,” he said as if he could read my thoughts. His fingers continued pushing and kneading my muscles, sending a flush of heat washing over me.

Good. That feels good.

A soft moan left me.

“What are you doing today?” he asked, his voice husky.

I have to go to the center. I’m teaching an ASL class. I’m also teaching them that they don’t have to talk until they’re ready.

I wasn’t a therapist by any means, but I had experience. I considered taking some courses online and maybe one day I would, but for now I was happy just doing what I could at the moment.

“Is it hard teaching them when you don’t speak yourself?”

It can be but I have an assistant who understands ASL as well, so that helps.

“I’m glad she’s there to help you.”

My fingers hesitated over the small screen before I began typing again.

He. My assistant is a guy.